


Belladonna

by annabagnell



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Drug Use, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-29 21:21:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7700113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabagnell/pseuds/annabagnell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Sexuality is fluid,” Sherlock began, and Mary laughed.</p>
<p>“Bullshit. You’re gay as a lark. You couldn’t eat cunt if you tried.”</p>
<p>“Then let me try.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Belladonna

They’d split up this time to find him. John was at the den across town, Mary at the one where Sherlock was stowed away. She’d woken him up from a slow come-down with a rough slap to the face, and he jolted half upright with a gasp and a moan. The room was empty spare the two of them, and a spoon and lighter were lukewarm on the dirty mattress next to Sherlock’s previously prone form.

 

“I can’t believe this is happening again,” Mary said angrily, smacking him again while the bruise on his opposite cheek flushed to the surface. “Using? Again? We talked about this, Sherlock Holmes, we talked about how you could come to us - we’re your _partners,_ we’re here to _support you_ -“

 

“It’s not about support,” Sherlock sneered, earning a well-aimed knee to the ribs this time. “I don’t need your pity and kindness, I need a hit, and I especially need a hit when you and John are blocking me out —“

 

“He was on a fucking business trip, we weren’t blocking you out!” Mary replied, outraged, pinning Sherlock down by straddling his torso. “And I know you don’t want to be in bed when it’s only me, so what’s the point in having you over if you’re only going to ignore me and wish John was there to feed you his bloody cock —“

 

“Who _ever_ said I didn’t want you?” Sherlock asked, struggling to sit up from under Mary’s surprisingly powerful hold. “I get you off, don’t I, when the three of us are together? I always make sure you come.”

 

“Yeah, like it’s a duty,” Mary said, scowling. “You only do it because you feel like you have to, not because you enjoy it. You’re gay.”

 

“Sexuality is fluid,” Sherlock began, and Mary laughed.

 

“Bullshit. You’re gay as a lark. You couldn’t eat cunt if you tried.”

 

“Then let me try,” Sherlock replied, and put his hands on Mary’s lean hips. The woman barked out a laugh and tried to push his hands away, and he refused to be moved, digging his fingers inside the waistband and pulling them down. Mary, nonplussed, let him do so, moving to let him drag her trousers and panties down her thighs, baring her arse and cunt to the cool air. She felt suddenly exposed, unsure. Sherlock took up the reins.

 

“Sit on my face,” he said, “and tell me what to do.”

 

Mary Watson shifted, scooting up Sherlock’s torso until her thighs straddled his face. Sherlock’s hand brushed the curve of her arse, the join of her thigh, before two fingers teased at her in a way that felt familiar - tracing her lips, brushing the fine hairs there and teasing at her clitoris.

 

She felt herself getting wet, and let out a breathy sigh. “You can do better than that,” she murmured, shifting to lower herself onto those long fingers. She felt more than heard Sherlock’s laughing reply, and soon the fingers were inside her, pulling at the wetness gathering within and dragging it to her clit, pushing and rolling where she wanted it the most.

 

“Keep talking,” Sherlock urged, and she felt his breath hot on her lips. Those fingers were rolling around her clit, which was growing harder, sending little ripples of pleasure humming through her groin.

 

“You gonna use that mouth for something better than talking?” Mary asked, and the hand that wasn’t inside her used its strength to pull her down onto warm, soft lips.

 

Inexperienced at first, but growing braver, Sherlock’s tongue followed his fingers in slow licks from her core to her clit and back again. She shivered, gasped, ground down - she felt his nose on her mons pubis, felt his groan as he licked her deeper. His fingers, longer and more deft than his tongue, pushed inside her, crooking forward. His lips closed around her clit, a puckered, tight circle that she could thrust into. She was riding his face, and Sherlock was taking it and giving it back in spades.

 

“Your tongue is so good,” she gasped, and felt the encouragement spur Sherlock further. “Hot - wet - ooh, oh - can you, harder,” she panted, her thighs shaking. Sherlock had never done this before, never worked her with more than his fingers, but his mouth - that kissable mouth, on her cunt -

 

His thumb joined his tongue on her clit and she cried out and ground down one last time, shaking and clenching around his fingers. Her hands had found his hair, holding tight for support and steadiness while he licked away everything she had to offer, until she was shaking and too sensitive to withstand even the lightest of touches. He lifted her and guided her away, and she followed, soft and pliable as a kitten that had eaten its fill. He helped her redress, then kicked away his paraphernalia and got them both to their feet.

 

“I’m - sorry,” he said lamely, wiping at his mouth one last time. Mary lifted her hand and thumbed away the last remains of her fluids on the corner of his mouth. “I should have come to you, whether I wanted to or not.”

 

In lieu of a reply, Mary drew Sherlock in for a hug that lasted far longer than was their usual. Quiet platitudes trickled into Sherlock’s ears, and the tension in Sherlock’s body drained away. She pulled back, and took his hand. Together, they went home, where they all belonged.


End file.
